I Dream of Alan Moore

This was actually 3-4 nights ago. Subsequently, I've started reading "The Forty-Niners" and have revisited the long interview with him called "The Craft" that has revitalized my writing.

I had a short dream last night wherein I met Alan Moore. He was a somewhat younger version than his current self, somewhere in his mid-to-late forties I’d guess. Still, he had the long hair, the long beard. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and had a walking stick. We were in a large room of some sort with various pillars, and we were alone. I went over to him with all the nervousness and awe that I would expect in “real life”. I made my introduction, shook his hand. I believe I said something typical ~ “I love your work” or somesuch. He gave me a somber “thank you”. Then, I struggled for what to ask, having been granted this rare opportunity. I recall that all of the typical questions popped to mind, the one’s you’d like to think that YOU’D never ask – Where do you get your ideas? What’s your next story about? Etc. Even in the dream I knew these were lame questions. I remember starting to ask something, then stopping myself, and asking him to forget what I’d started to say. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever managed to engage in any kind of real conversation. He seemed mildly annoyed – as if he was thinking, “It’s your dream. You brought me here. Do something with me.” The dream ended all too quickly.